DarkFire
by Grand Admiral Thraawn
Summary: The events surounding a
1. Confrontations Part I

CONFRONTATIONS PART I  
  
Bossk sat alone in the cockpit of his ship, staring into the cold emptiness of space.   
  
Alone with his anger.  
  
Fett had done it again! Bossk honestly didn't know how that pathetic, meddling little bounty hunter could have so much kriffing luck. Standing up, he smashed his fist into the wall, dragging his claws down the solid panel that had been completely marred by scratches and ugly claw marks.   
  
Bossk ran through the events in his mind again and again, trying to figure out what he could have done differently, trying, in fact, to figure out what had happened at all. One minute he had been heading back to his ship with his hard merchandise, the next he was on the ground and Fett was escaping with his captive.   
  
Bossk had been engulfed in fury, and as a result the spray of blaster fire he had unleashed was erratic and uncoordinated. None the less, he had succeeded in hitting Fett in the leg.   
  
That brought him scant pleasure, knowing that Fett would be suffering from the pain of a blaster burn.   
  
He could almost smell the burning of Fett's leg, the roasting of his--  
  
Bossk was wrenched out of his most pleasant train of thought as the stars in front of him distorted themselves, flashed, then dropped *Slave I* out in front of him.  
  
  
  
Fett was fast, Bossk gave him that.   
  
Before *Slave I* had even finished the reversion to realspace it was screaming past him, spewing red death like a terrifying dragon out one of the Trandosian fairy tales Bossk had never paid much attention to as a child.   
  
Launching himself into his chair, Bossk scrabbled wildly for both the shield and weapon controls simultaneously. He managed to get off a few volleys before *Slave I* was past, dropping a missile behind it as it went.  
  
As Bossk flicked one of the oversized switches on the control board, built to accommodate a Trandoshan's overly large hands, all of the Hound's Tooth's shield power shifted aft to protect it's self from the immanent explosion.   
  
He had not counted on Fett's trickery.  
  
At the last second the missile performed a summersault and careered into the forward section of the *Hound's Tooth*.   
  
Bossk snarled as he attempted to return the shields to normal, succeeding only partially before the explosion hit, tearing through shield and hull alike.  
  
The ship rocked violently in response to Fett's attack, throwing Bossk to the floor as the control board lights flashed red and, in some cases, blinked out completely. As *Slave I* spun around to finish of the *Hound's Tooth*, Bossk lunged for the communication board and sent Fett a one way com burst, which, provided it was small enough, would force Fett's ship to record and replay it, whether he wanted to listen or not.   
  
"Fett, Orba will die!" Bossk gargled into the com mike, cursing the forced brevity of a com burst.  
  
There was a pause that seemed to drag on forever, where Fett may or may not have paid Bossk any heed, may or may not have fired before the message reached him, may or may not have done a thousand things that would result in Bossk's destruction.   
  
Eventually, Bossk knew through the fact that he was still alive that Fett had heard the burst, probably spending that moment of doing nothing simply to torment Bossk. How he HATED that wretch!   
  
He dug his claws into the control panel, ripping apart the delicate wiring for the weapons that had already been rendered useless by Fett's missile.  
  
Finally, Fett responded.  
  
"What do you mean? Speak fast."  
  
Bossk was momentarily drained of his rage as he returned the communication.  
  
"I've set explosives in the *Sun Pearl*." gloated the Trandoshan, pleased that his planing had finally paid off, pleased that he had finally given himself an edge over Fett. " If I trigger the switch Orba will be nothing more than a greasy speck in space."   
  
"Then why shouldn't I just blow you up now?" Queried Fett, sensing a catch.  
  
"I've got a separate transmitter in my hold that's hooked up to my internal sensors. They're all at critical right now, and if they detect even the slightest change in my hull integrity, or if they go off-line, the transmitter will detonate the bombs. You can take me down, but Orba comes too."  
  
After a moment's pause, Fett's voice returned, harsh as ever.  
  
"Alright, you win. Deactivate the explosives and I'll dock with you."   
  
Bossk knew that Fett's concern was born not out of any love for the Hutt, or anyone else on the *Sun Pearl*, but rather an awareness of his finances. Orba often needed the services of bounty hunters, but very seldom hired anyone other than Fett; this was, in fact, one of the very few occasions on which Orba had declared an open bounty on someone's head. This meant that if Orba passed away no bounty hunter would miss him much except Boba Fett, and he would miss him a great deal. Giving Bossk this bounty to prevent Orba from dying would still benefit Fett in the long term.  
  
Bossk, though, was still wary. He had been the victim of Fett's trickery far too long to do anything that the hunter suggested.   
  
Besides, he hadn't hatched yesterday.   
  
"No way, Fett." He snarled "Power down and do what I tell you." Another pause.  
  
"Very well." Fett suited action to words as Bossk watched over the extremely limited sensors he still had, powering down shields, weapons and every other system except communication, one after another.  
  
"Now put the merchandise in your escape pod and jettison it." Commanded Bossk.  
  
There was an even longer pause this time. Bossk was beginning to wonder if something had happened to him, hoping it had, when *Slave I* launched its escape pod.  
  
Not wanting to be the victim of another Fett trick, Bossk ran as full a scan of *Slave I* and its escape pod as he could, focusing on scanning for life signs.   
  
Most sensors and scanners were rendered useless by the large metal content of ships, as well as their shields. Bossk, however, had "acquired" a special bio-scanner that could penetrate metal hulls and give accurate life sign readings. According to his scans, there was indeed one life sign one each vessel. Unless Fett had managed to wire together a life-sign masking/falsification array, which would have taken considerably more time than Bossk had given him, not to mention knowing that Bossk could search for life signs in the first place, things were as they should be.  
  
Still....Bossk, for once, didn't want to leave anything to chance. Setting the explosives to detonate in five minutes, he activated his tractor beam, fortunately still fully functional, and dragged the escape pod into the hold, ecstatic that he had at last got one over on Boba Fett. 


	2. Confrontations Part II

CONFRONTATIONS PART II  
  
Bossk strode up to the escape hatch and, hefting his blaster rifle, keyed open the hatch.  
  
He had been prepared for some resistance. He had not been prepared for the stream of blaster bolts that greeted him as the hatch slid open, swarming around him and stinging at him like giant red firegnats. Shocked and completely caught off balance, Bossk flailed for a minute before falling over backwards onto the deck plating, his blaster rifle spinning uselessly out of reach. His mind tried franticly to figure out what was happening.   
  
Who was shooting at him? The merchandise, obviously.  
  
Where did he get the blaster? Fett must have given it to him.  
  
No, this couldn't be right. When Bossk had captured the merchandise back in that office block on Corellia he had had a blaster, but that fool couldn't have hit the broad side of a sitting rancor, never mind pepper him with the impressive volley of shots that had just knocked him to the floor. Then who--   
  
Bossk looked up to see Fett standing over him, blaster leveled at Bossk's chest.  
  
Seeing Fett standing there caused something in Bossk to snap, the last vestiges of control over the Trandoshan's primal instincts.   
  
He lunged at Fett, ignoring the scorching bolts burning into his chest. Reaching out, he smacked Fett's blaster out of his hands before the two collided. Grabbing the armored figure's neck, Bossk slammed him against the side of the escape pod again and again until spots started to cloud Fett's vision. Releasing a blood-curdling snarl, Bossk threw Fett against the wall, where the battered hunter collapsed on the floor. Lunging on top of him, pining him to the ground, Bossk slowly brought his claws together, Fett's neck the only thing between them and offering little resistance.  
  
Fett floundered under Bossk's weight, trying to think of something that might save him. His legs were both firmly pinned down and his arms couldn't reach anything.   
  
As his claws closed the distance between each other Bossk heard something whipping past his ear. He paid it no heed and, a second later, was engulfed in darkness. Something large and almost heavy landed on him and by reflex he swatted it away.  
  
He instantly realised his mistake.   
  
Fett, suddenly able to move his arms, reached over and triggered the flame-thrower attached to his wrist. A plume of fire burst seemingly out from his hand and splashed over the tapestry that was now covering Bossk. Howling, Bossk tore the scorching tapestry off his back, simultaneously ripping his now burning jumpsuit away and cursing Fett by all the heroes and deities portrayed in the other tapestries that hung in the *Hound's Tooth*, now missing one epic battle.  
  
By the time Bossk had rid himself of all the blazing fabric and stood naked in the hold of his ship, Fett had calmly retrieved his blaster and was pointing it at Bossk from across the room.   
  
"Don't move." Fett's harsh voice rang out through the ship, echoing and sounding like a hundred Fetts, not an idea that Bossk particularly enjoyed. "Get up to the cockpit and disable those explosives."  
  
Unable to think of any way to save himself right now, Bossk walked up the ramp to the control section of the ship and accessed the explosives remotely. On the screen a timer counting down from five seconds, rather than the five minutes he had started with, appeared.  
  
"Now!" Growled Fett.  
  
"Why should I?" Asked Bossk, the sides of his mouth twisting into a smile. He was suddenly thoroughly sick of the continual reversal of fortune Fett had a way of bringing about. Thoroughly sick of Fett always wining. "Maybe I should just---" Fett terminated that sentence with a quick shot to Bossk's leg.   
  
"Now." He repeated in a much quieter, much more threatening tone. Snarling with pain and outrage, Bossk reached out and disarmed the bombs a mere split-second before the countdown reached zero.  
  
"Good." Said Fett, before stroking the trigger and sending Bossk collapsing on to the floor. 


	3. Delusions

DELUSIONS  
  
Fett walked into Orba's audience chamber, pushing his merchandise to the floor in front of him.  
  
"Fett, ma boogy." Boomed Orba. "Makey chisay! I chang giv yu fiy, unt thangmitalyo channki!"  
  
"You promised me eighty thousand, Hutt." Growled Fett, not surprised that the Hutt was trying to weasel out of paying the full amount. Promising to pay almost double was like a ritual among Hutts. Fett did not observe that ritual.   
  
"Fett, Fett. Thankimalchi gargo. Tookasa tamani togacha. Ma boogy chisay chisay?"  
  
"Very well, you can keep your forty percent." At this remark Orba's face lit up into as close to a smile as it ever got. "And I'll just keep forty percent of him." Fett concluded, gesturing at the captive.  
  
"No, no ma boogey. Ma chisay boogey! Tangar chanch garchi chag!" Orba started gesticulating wildly.  
  
Seeing that he had won, as he always did, Fett nodded and turned. Checking his account as he went, the hunter returned to *Slave I*.  
  
As soon as the hunter left, the tension started to seep out of the room. The band began to play again and Orba's latest prisoner was dragged off to the special area Orba kept just behind his audience chamber, a room devoted to torture and interrogation.   
  
Many of the beings in the room stood listening to the beat of the jizz music being played, but for Orba, the true melody was the song of the screams that played in his chamber of private amusements behind him.  
  
Seldom, he thought, are things useful for both business and pleasure.   
  
Perhaps he would visit it tonight.  
  
Vanner Antilles slumped in the harness that he was strapped into, trying desperatly to do...anything. Ever since he had been taken to this awful place by that bounty hunter…..how long had it been now? Days? Weeks? Months? Years? He didn't know. He couldn't think. He couldn't do anything. The world swirled past him in a mesmerizing wash of colour, dancing past his face, taunting him with its freedom. He wanted to reach out, touch it, become a part of it. He wanted to, desperatly. Why couldn't he? He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember anything.  
  
Something wafted to him through the haze that surrounded him, a haze created out of exhaustion and hunger and overdoses of dozens of different drugs. Listening hard, forcing himself to concentrate, he thought he heard a noise. Vanner stared hard, trying to tell what he was seeing through the haze of colour. It looked like a big slug standing in front of him.   
  
Suddenly he burst out laughing. Why was he laughing? What was so funny? He wasn't sure, but he was laughing all the same and it was a sensation that he enjoyed.   
  
Then he remembered. He was laughing because he had thought, "there is a big slug standing in front of me." How could a slug stand? He started laughing again. No, he didn't. He had never stopped laughing.   
  
Why was he laughing again? Oh, yes. The "Standing Slug". That sounded like a song.  
  
Vanner started singing "The Standing Slug" over and over until he was forced out of his thoughts by the slug again. This time the noise was louder, more insistent, more annoying.   
  
What did it want? It was asking him questions. Then answer them! Just make it go away. It was disturbing him.  
  
Orba "stood" in front of the Imperial, his questions being run through his 3PO translator droid, the Imperial slurring out answers mindlessly. By the time the session was over, Orba felt that he knew plenty about the Imperial's latest creation.  
  
A computer program, designed to be the ultimate seek-and-destroy weapon, gone horribly wrong.   
  
With its continual attempts to create superior artificial intelligences the Empire was continually running into the problem that they had termed WiSE, or the Wildfire Sentience Error, an error that DarkFire had developed. Most errors of that nature were located and terminated before any problems could occur, but DarkFire had successfully managed to hide the error.  
  
DarkFire. The name, for some reason, appealed to Orba.   
  
What appealed to him the most, though, were DarkFire's abilities. The computer program could access communication ports and transfer itself, via com link-up, to any computer or droid it could reach over the link-up. Once in the computer, or droid, logic matrix, no matter how simple or complex, it gained complete control over the AI by imprinting its own patters onto the Vibro-brain. When DarkFire left the computer system it removed the command overlay, as well as leaving a falsified memory package.   
  
In layman's terms, DarkFire could control any computer or droid anytime, anywhere; coming and going between terminals without leaving a trace.  
  
The perfect assassin.  
  
Orba licked his lips just thinking about it. If this tech was telling the truth; and he was in no shape to be lying, DarkFire would be a great new addition to the arsenal of mercenaries that he always kept within arms reach, which for a Hutt was never very far.  
  
After becoming sentient, DarkFire had downloaded itself onto the Holonet; making tracking it virtually impossible, were it not for one fact.  
  
Programmed as a seek-and-destroy program, DarkFire would still be obeying that programming, ever after achieving sentience. Therefore, all that was needed was an order to seek-and-destroy and DarkFire would be drawn out, ready to do Orba's bidding.  
  
He hoped.   
  
Just in case you haven't figured it out, Italics are marked with *'s 


	4. Contests

CONTESTS  
  
Orba lay on the giant repulsor sled that sat at the head of his throne room, nestled away in the center of the *Sun Pearl*.  
  
Thinking.   
  
It was something that he seldom did. Orba had a natural talent for manipulating existing variables and a chronic inability to create new ones. Therefore, figuring out how to do something with various resources was something he could do, while figuring out how to do something completely new, with no guidelines whatsoever, was his major weakness.   
  
Remembering a time when he had, as a slugling, managed to get his mother to do something that she had been vehemently against by way of a complex plot involving a 3-PO droid and a small group of visiting Jawas, Orba reached into the tank beside his throne that kept the tree frogs that he liked to snack on. Absent-mindedly, Orba slipped it into his mouth, crushing it against the top of his palette with his powerful tongue as it continued its attempt to escape his great jaws, crushing it into a pulp that slid down his throat. Engrossed in thought as he considered what to do, Orba reached into the tank again, pulling out a second, a third, a fourth. Only by the time that he had picked up the thirteenth did he actually notice it. As he held it in a vice-like grip it squirmed violently, attempting to escape and return to the safety and comfort of the nutrient-filled jar and its companions. Orba had, while attempting to fall asleep one restless night, decided that the amount that they squiggled and their taste was directly related.  
  
Reaching into the jar again, Orba was disappointed to notice that he held the last one in his hand. Throwing the frog, which was almost as large as his lieutenant's head, into his mouth, Orba belched in disgust.   
  
How was he expected to think on an empty stomach?  
  
Waving his bowl away to be refilled he called in the Rexxian hunting dogs that he kept as a source of amusement aboard the *Sun Pearl*. Perhaps a little contest of strength would help lighten his mind and focus on the task at hand.  
  
Contest. The word lingered in his mind as the dogs were brought out. Contest...  
  
Hours later he had it all figured out.  
  
A "Tournament of Hunters"; a gigantic competition between all the best bounty hunters and mercenaries in the galaxy.   
  
A competition worthy of memory for years to come.  
  
Orba salivated at the thought. Not only would he bring DarkFire out, he would create history. And that wasn't even considering the tremendous entertainment value that such a contest would have. Orba could make thousands of credits charging people to watch his tournament.  
  
His tournament. The words were like sweetened tree frogs to him. Finally, after competing with Jabba and Durga and all the other powerful Hutts for so many years, he would show them that he could do something worthwhile too.  
  
Turning round, Orba started to rumble out instructions as his lieutenant started typing them into his datapad.  
  
This would certainly be something to remember.  
  
Ch'tek sat alone in the small cave on the side of the mountain in which he lived, meditating.  
  
Stretching out with the Force, he became one with the surrounding landscape. He could feel the animals, the plants, the rocks; everything around him was part of him.   
  
As he felt the Force flow through him he became aware of a faint flicker on the edge of his senses. Reaching out, Ch'tek could feel the subdued emotion rippling off whoever was creeping towards him.  
  
Subdued ripples to anyone else, waves of bitter hatred to Ch'tek's experienced senses.  
  
Trying as hard as he could without being detected, Ch'tek probed the mind that was approaching. Intense fury rolled over Ch'tek as he searched the violent mind, cold fury, stripped bare and raw, focused fury, directed at Ch'tek and the entire Jedi Order.  
  
To Ch'tek, it was a very familiar mind.  
  
The mind of Aurra Sing.  
  
Aurra Sing advanced towards the cave in the mountain from which she had first felt the disturbance in the Force. It was a natural disturbance, created by a Force-user.   
  
A powerful Force-user too, she had felt them in her ship all the way out in space as she had dropped in-system to make a hyperdrive correction.   
  
Coincidental, some would say, that she had dropped into this system to make her correction, not to mention right when the user was meditating. She knew that they must have been meditating, she had lost the sense several times since then and was sure that whoever it was that she had sensed knew she was coming.   
  
Still, she was not taking any precautions.   
  
Her swoop bike was stealthed, not a single sensor could detect her and no noise was detectable from the repulsors.   
  
Focusing, Aurra engaged her battle senses and prepared for the thrill of the hunt.  
  
Ch'tek stood at the mouth of his cave and viewed the small speeder rushing to meet him. Calmly he readied himself for the inevitable conflict.   
  
Aurra slipped off her swoop and landed gently on the grass, her stance an easy combat one. The bike sped off on auto-pilot, circling what was bound to be the combat arena at a safe distance till Aurra called.   
  
Reaching out with her senses Aurra searched for her prey. It did not take long.   
  
Lunging out at her from a tree, Ch'tek called his lightsabers to him from where he kept them, fastened to his loincloth at the small of his back, and spun down on Aurra. Calling her own sabers to her hands she easily blocked Ch'tek's attack, sliding out from under him as he landed beside her. Spinning his blades continuously on either side of him, Ch'tek started to force Aurra back under his relentless attack.  
  
Calmly, Aurra inserted her blades into Ch'tek's green typhoon, stopping his mad attack and momentarily holding him open. Bringing her knee up she delivered him a swift kick in the stomach.   
  
She had expected that he would become dazed, or at least winded; the power of her kick was not insignificant. She was, therefore, caught almost off guard when Ch'tek completely ignored her kick and grabbed her leg with his foot.   
  
Aurra had never before noticed his long, prehensile toes.  
  
Spinning her around as though he had her with his arm, Ch'tek spun her into the tree, following quickly afterwards. Landing with her back against the tree Aurra blocked Ch'tek with her saber and kicked him again, this time placing her foot on his chest and using the tree as leverage to force him backwards. Ch'tek brought his sabers up and in as he fell backwards, forcing Aurra to execute a backflip in order to preserve her leg.   
  
A backflip into a tree is never recommended.   
  
Spinning back, Aurra smashed her head into the great arbor behind her before twisting awkwardly in mid-air and crashing full bodily into its trunk.   
  
Pressing the advantage Ch'tek bounced off the ground and swung in towards Aurra, one of his blades colliding with hers and the other slicing cleanly through the tree. Aurra rolled over and up in order to block that saber too before vaulting up and into the limbs of the great tree and then again onto the ground as the behemoth toppled over towards Ch'tek. Dodging out from underneath the tree he dashed towards Aurra on all fours like some kind of primitive beast before launching himself up and over her head. Landing behind her he dashed her on the side of the head with his tail as they both twisted around to meet. As Aurra met Ch'tek he placed his foot on her chest and pushed, assisting himself with the Force. Aurra backfliped again and landed ready to block Ch'tek's next advance.  
  
It never came.  
  
Ch'tek was simply standing there, roughly five meters away from her, his leathery green skin glistening in the sun, his breathing heavy.  
  
They had fought each other many times in the past but he had never tired as easily as this. Pressing the advantage she leapt at him, not even breathing hard. Perhaps all these years had taken a greater toll on the Jedi than she had imagined. 


	5. Hunters Part I

HUNTERS Part I   
  
  
  
Boba Fett sat alone in the cockpit of his ship, staring into the cold emptiness of space.   
  
He had just been the recipient of a very interesting message. Reaching out he replayed the message. A five-inch tall Twi'lek sprung out of thin air on the control board and started once again to replay the message, like some form of technological ghost reciting its unearthly mantra.  
  
"Congratulations, hunter Fett. You have been chosen for the honor of participating in Master Orba's latest contest. The winner of this contest, which has been desinged to tax both the mind and the body, will receive the hansom bounty of 1 million credits. The contest will be held in stages. Complete each stage to move on to the next. This is stage 1. Let the contest begin!" The Twi'lek threw up his hands and was replaced by the image of a stylized 0 which started slowly rotating on its axis.   
  
A stylized number that Fett recognized all to well. After his father had, while only doing his job, been slaughtered by that Jedi, Fett had decided to research the Order quite thoroughly should he ever run into one again. The symbol that he was looking at was definitely the Jedi's zero. Unknown to most of the galaxy was the fact that the Jedi had there own numbers and letters, as well as their own mythology.  
  
Probably in order that they could communicate to each other in written form without others knowing what they were saying. Just another example of the treachery and underhanded dealings of the vaunted Jedi Knights.   
  
Still, he could never be too careful, sloppiness was one of the stupidest mistakes a sentient being could make.  
  
Fett was neither sloppy nor stupid. Keying up his ship's databank he ran the symbol through it, looking for other possible meanings that he was not aware of.  
  
It soon became apparent that he needn't have worried. He actually had to key a specific search through the Jedi databanks before any match was found. Once the data appeared Fett studied it carefully, refreshing his memory of what he knew. There was really very little content of any importance, in fact, after looking over the entry he decided there was only one piece of information of any significance. Apparently, in the Jedi mythology, the number zero symbolized both the beginning and the end, constantly and eternally intertwined. Sitting back, Fett started to think about this clue and wondering what precisely he would do with one million Credits.  
  
With the usual burst of light the tunnel of hyperspace formed into starlines, then with one final shudder formed back into the comforting visage of real space. Zuckuss once again promised himself to have the hyperdrive overhauled as soon as he got his hands on the Credits to do so.  
  
Credits. They had been his main problem recently, or rather, a lack of them. However, this tournament of Orba's promised to change that for quite a while and, if their progress so far was anything to go by, wining it would be a cinch.   
  
The first clue of this contest had been insultingly easy and, with his inherent intuition and 4-LOM's logic, they had arrived in the Geonosis system within the hour. Considering what Zuckuss thought a glaringly obvious clue he was somewhat surprised to find that the system wasn't crawling with hunters.  
  
After all, the stylized zero, used by the Jedi order only, indicated specifically the beginning of the end and the history books all agreed that the Jedi purge began, as the Clone Wars began, on Geonosis.  
  
Even before he completed that thought there was a flicker of pseudomotion and *Slave I* dropped into the system.  
  
Reaching out, Zuckuss hurriedly engaged the *Mist Hunter*'s limited sensor-stealthing equipment. Although it would never stand up to a thorough scan, the *Mist Hunter* would remain effectively invisible to any passive scans of the area.   
  
And passive scans, Zuckuss quickly saw, were all that Fett was going to have time for. With another flicker of light a second ship appeared, dropping right into *Slave I*'s drive trail with droid-like precision. Locking a tractor beam on to Fett's ship, *IG-2000* started to pour blaster fire into its shields. *Slave I* squirmed franticly under the tractor beam lock but was unable to gain even a few inches from the invisible grip.   
  
Zuckuss was enthralled by the battle between titans; either Fett or IG-88 was almost irrefutably the greatest bounty hunter in the galaxy, although Zuckuss felt that very soon there would be only one left to take that particular title.  
  
The question was which one? Beside him, Zuckuss felt 4-LOM shift in his seat, attempting to "achieve a more effective position to optimize his visual sensor array input scanners."   
  
Personally, Zuckuss felt that he was simply picking up on the more organic trait of "Shifting in his seat."  
  
"Hunter Fett will attempt an unexpected maneuver in approximately 12.45 seconds." 4-LOM informed him.  
  
"How will it be an unexpected maneuver if you've already predicted it?" Zuckuss was probing him more out of an attempt at humor that any genuine desire to know. Still, 4-LOM was punctual and efficient in delivering his reply.  
  
"I mean, as I suspect that you already know, that while I expect the maneuver what precisely it shall entail is unknown."  
  
Zuckuss felt that he couldn't simply stop now.  
  
"When did you turn into a predictive model?"   
  
"As Hunter Fett has managed to successfully outwit 99.999% of all the hunters he has faced in the duration of his career, I decided that it would be a wise precaution to study his use of tactics in case we should ever encounter him. He will attempt an unorthodox maneuver in 2.5-"  
  
4-LOM was cut off as three proton torpedoes from *IG-2000*'s launch tubes penetrated *Slave I*'s shields and burrowed into its main drive engine, detonating on impact.  
  
*Slave I* exploded into a massive fireball that engulfed *IG-2000* and sprayed debris out in all directions before vanishing into thin vacuum, leaving behind only the heat-warped pieces of durasteel that once formed the hulls of *Slave I* and *IG-2000*.  
  
Perhaps, thought Zuckuss, there might still be a chance to claim that title for himself after all.   
  
Gunning the engines he started to close the distance between him and the planet, dreaming about all the possible ways of spending one million Credits. 


	6. Hunters Part II

HUNTERS Part II   
  
Bossk smiled grimly as he watched Fett and '88 blow each other to smithereens. He had been hoping to have their blood, or circuitry, on his hands, but an enemy killed by another is better than an enemy killed not at all.  
  
Bossk's claw flexed involuntarily. That was an old saying that he had never believed, a fable created by old hunters who were too tired and ill to kill anyone themselves anymore but too stubborn to let go of the power that they had become intoxicated by and just die.  
  
As he thought that an image of Cradossk sprung into his mind.  
  
Yes, he thought, your time will come soon, old fool.   
  
His father had, for too long now, held onto the power and glory that was rightfully Bossk's. When the time came, it would be Bossk's pleasure to devour him, just as he had devoured his brothers and sisters in the birth pits of Trandosha.  
  
But now was not the time for that.   
  
He had graciously offered to join up with the inexperienced findsman Zuckuss and his partner 4-LOM; to share his greater expertise and skill so that they would all have a better chance of acquiring the bounty at the end of this hunt.   
  
Like a fool the Gand had refused.   
  
Bossk's claws twitched again.   
  
*At least if you had joined me I would have killed you quickly.*   
  
But now the Gand and his partner were going to have to be taught an object lesson as to what happens to those who ignore Bossk.   
  
*And this way is going to hurt a lot more.*  
  
After the Gand had made it quite clear as to what he thought of Bossk's offer, Bossk had ordered one of his other thugs, one of the more intelligent ones that had joined up with him, to surreptitiously hack the *Mist Hunter*'s onboard computer system. Now it was, among other things, continually sending him live sensor data.  
  
*It's almost as if he is working for me. And when his time comes, I'll know precisely where he is.*   
  
Smiling, Bossk double-checked that the nav-computer was finished the lightspeed calculation. Reaching out he placed his claws firmly on the hyperdrive levers and pulled them towards him.  
  
Just how would he spend all those Credits?  
  
In the vast emptiness of space, a helmeted figure sat alone, surrounded by blinking consoles and flashing lights. The coldness of the vacuum was reflected in the coldness of his visor as he scanned the instruments arrayed in front of him.  
  
The probe, which was now hidden safely in the debris field of his own making, was scanning the Geonosis system dutifully. The bounty hunters Zuckuss and 4-LOM, aboard the *Mist Hunter*, were revealed easily to him, despite their minimal sensor-stealthing. Bossk, on board the *Hound's Tooth*, was even easier to spot, his ship had no stealthing engaged whatsoever. IG-88 and the *IG-2000* were hidden far better than either of the others, still, to his experienced senses, they were just as obvious.  
  
And now that all the pieces of the puzzle were in place, it was time to put them together.  
  
Reaching out, Fett triggered the jump to lightspeed and watched as the starscape transformed itself into the tunnel of hyperspace and he entered the one place in the galaxy that he felt truly safe.  
  
Closing his eyes, Fett dozed off.  
  
Bossk's gratitude that Fett and IG-88 were both dead had soon given way to the rage that he always carried with him.  
  
HE should have been the one to kill them.  
  
Their blood should have been on HIS claws.   
  
Bossk was still brooding darkly as he dropped out of hyperspace and shot towards Geonosis.   
  
He was still brooding, in fact, when the space behind him flickered and spat out *Slave I*.  
  
He was caught completely off guard. *Slave I* blasted towards him like, quite literally, a ghost out of hell. Still, his reflexes had been honed by a lifetime spent as a bounty hunter and he had the *Hound's Tooth* spinning round to meet Fett before he was even aware of it. His claws dashed simultaneously for the firing, shield and thruster controls as Boba Fett circled him once, blasters firing, then went charging back out into space. The *Hound's Tooth* chased after him, laser cannons spewing red and green bolts of destruction as it went. Bossk was only beginning to recover from the mixed shock, disbelief, anger and even a slight bit of relief that he might be able to kill Fett himself after all when *IG-2000* came blasting out of the planet's atmosphere, blaster blazing away at Bossk's ship. It was a futile gesture; Bossk's spin to chase Fett had brought him out of the droid's laser range.   
  
In front of Bossk, *Slave I* spun round and shot past, spewing death as it went. Dropping three proton torpedoes as it passed, *Slave I* moved on to engage *IG-2000*.  
  
The *Hound's Tooth* shuddered as the heavy explosives detonated against its shields. Bossk twisted it around for another pass at the battle raging behind it.  
  
Battle was a poor choice of words.  
  
Slaughter was more accurate.  
  
*Slave I* continued to pour raw energy into *IG-2000*'s shields as it flew past; then spun around and passed again as *IG-2000*, the agile craft that it was, had twisted halfway around on its axis, its guns now brought to bear on empty space. Fett's ship delivered the *Hound's Tooth* one final blow before blasting towards empty space, only a pair of small canisters and the destruction it had left behind testament to the fact it had ever been there.  
  
Two small canisters.  
  
Bossk snarled as his brain caught up with the events, curses flying unhindered from his jaws as he scrabbled uselessly in an attempt to move the *Hound's Tooth* away from the heavy explosives in time.  
  
He failed.  
  
*IG-2000* had sped far away, the sleek and deadly craft was built for speed, but Bossk was sitting right next to them as they detonated.  
  
A halo of blue energy pulsed out, slicing through the *Hound's Tooth*'s energy shields like a knife through a soft dairy product. Bossk was thrown to the deck plating as the ship rocked under the force of the explosion. Clawing his way back onto his chair he managed to get his talons back onto the control panels.  
  
The status lights on the boards were all blank, indications of complete system failures.  
  
Bossk had no idea what was still functional, but, from the sounds echoing back through the ship, he had absolutely no interest in going back to find out manually.   
  
Chances were he would be facing cold vacuum.   
  
Cursing horribly, Bossk set to work attempting to fix the comm unit, trying to ignore the fact that should Fett or IG-88 miss each other, the blaster bolt could very easily vaporize *Hound's Tooth*. 


	7. Winners

CALAMITIES  
  
Had Fett been anyone else, he would have smiled. IG-88 probably thought that it had been well hidden, flying its ship along the planet's atmosphere. It was a very difficult trick to pull off, one that required droid-like efficiency. Too high, the craft would burn out of the atmosphere entirely, too low and the ship would fly straight through the atmosphere and the resulting flare would show the ship up on every sensor scan in the system. Still, it was enough to fool most people. Unfortunately for IG-88, Boba Fett was not in the class of most people. He knew that, after his decoy ship had been destroyed by the fake *IG-2000*, the droid must have been somewhere in the system. Pulling off that precise realspace reversion required, even for a droid, some pre-calculated variables. The most likely place for the droid to be hiding was on the edge of the planet's atmosphere and, with a droid, the most likely place was always where they were.   
  
That was the problem with droid's logic, when you knew how it worked you could know their next move before they did. And that was precisely what Fett had done.   
  
By timing his attack with Bossk's entry; in a distant and very small corner of his mind, one reserved for admiration of other sentients, he was impressed that Bossk had figured out the clue so quickly, although, knowing the Trandoshan, he had probably just followed someone here; by timing his attack with Bossk he had managed to make IG-88's attack useless. The droid had come rushing out of hiding to launch an attack, just to see its prey scurry off after Fett. Now, Fett was going to make it pay for its mistake.   
  
Turning *Slave I* back on the droid's ship, Fett moved in for the kill. As the two vessels shot past, Boba Fett activated his ship's tractor beam. Both ships lurched, then *IG-2000* started to move backwards, the way *Slave I* was going. Straight towards *Hound's Tooth*.   
  
IG-88 could clearly tell what was about to happen, the ION engines of its ship strained to overload, but it was no use. The ship could not resist Fett, no one could.   
  
Boba Fett calmly observed the scene in front of him. *IG-2000* was being forced, at full speed, towards the immobilized *Hound's Tooth*. The droid's ship was pointed away from the Trandoshan's, so it couldn't vaporize it with anything out of its forward facing arsenal. The only possible conclusion, one that was going to be reached in a few seconds, was the collision between *IG-2000* and *Hound's Tooth*, The deaths of the two bounty hunters, neither of whom Fett would mourn, was an inescapable conclusion. As inescapable as anything that Fett decreed.   
  
With the single wave of a hand, the Emperor could sentence any creature alive to a quick, or painful, death. The same power was held by Boba Fett, the differences were that Fett did it on a more personal basis, and the Emperor was prone to doing it a lot more often than Fett. That was one of the main differences between Boba Fett and many of the other, most powerful beings in the galaxy. Creatures like Palpatine and Jabba the Hutt were know, renowned even, for their tendency to simply kill for pleasure, or worse, no reason at all. Fett only killed when it was necessary. Not that he was in any way hesitant to do so, or unwilling to kill as anything but a last resort, but he only killed when it was required to turn a profit. Likewise, if getting paid depended upon handing over live merchandise, he would defend it with his life.   
  
Still, in this situation, if the quickest, easiest and most effective way of disposing of these two hunters was their demise, then that would be what Fett would arrange. With that, Fett, like some kind of pagan god, decided that they were to die. Reaching out, he poured more power into the thrusters, speeding Bossk and IG-88 to their doom.  
  
It had taken only two minutes. After that, Aurra Sing had collapsed defeated on the field and Ch'tek had hauled her back to her ship and put her in the same holding pen that she kept her prisoners in. She had been completely taken in by his charade; he was almost disappointed in her. When he had unleashed his true power, she had been so completely off guard that she had fallen flat on her face simply feeling his connection with the Force. And now she had paid for that lack of concentration. The green Jedi was sure that Aurra may not have been so eager to tangle with him in the first place if she had know of his more recent escapades. In the last two years, he had met Darth Vader no less than five times in combat, besting the Dark Lord each and every time.   
  
There was a time when Ch'tek would have been grateful for the fact that the Sith, at least, had proved a worthy adversary. After centuries of Jedi training, however, he had come to derive no pleasure from battle. He would much rather be left in peace. After Aurra found him, however, he knew that he had to leave. He couldn't keep her on Drumshgill, nor could he let her go and tell others, more powerful that her, that she knew his whereabouts.   
  
She may have pride, but she is willing to swallow it in order to profit.   
  
A deep disgust of bounty hunters welled in his throat, along with a pang of regret that Aurra had joined their ranks. She would have made a fine Jedi. If she had only managed to conquer her fear.  
  
Ch'tek pushed away his thoughts. They were thoughts for later. Right now he was charged with the task of getting this ship off the ground and finding somewhere else to hide from the Empire.  
  
As he stepped into the cockpit he noticed a flashing light in the center of the board. Stretching out with the Force to discern its purpose, Ch'tek could suddenly see someone. Focusing, he could tell that it was a hologram, saying something that he couldn't hear. Reaching out, Ch'tek flicked a switch on the Comm board. The same hologram appeared on the console and started to speak.   
  
"Congratulations, huntress Sing. You have been chosen for the honor of participating in Master Orba's latest contest. The winner of this contest, which has been designed to tax both the mind and the body, will receive the hansom bounty of 1 million credits. The contest will be held in stages. Complete each stage to move on to the next. This is stage 1. Let the contest begin!" The Twi'lek threw up his hands and was replaced by the image of a stylized 0 which started slowly rotating on its axis.  
  
"An enticing bounty, isn't it?" The voice came from behind him. Ch'tek leapt up out of the chair and spun around to face Aurra Sing and the business ends of two of her blasters. Ch'tek had no room to move, even to duck, when Aurra gently stroked the firing studs. Two red bolts leapt from her guns and straight into his scaly head. The Jedi's eyes rolled back in his head and he fell backwards onto the console, then slid down onto the floor. Aurra smiled, holstered her blasters and reached for the nav computer controls. Didn't that reptilian fool even suspect that she would have had override commands built into her own computer systems? Aurra shook her head as she sat down. She, for one, wasn't at all surprised that the Jedi had been slaughtered; with their belief that no one in the in the galaxy was as capable as they were she was amazed that they had lasted as long as they had. Reaching out, Aurra pulled down the hyperspace levers and made the jump to lightspeed, still marveling at the incompetence of the Jedi knights and wondering how far one million Credits would get her towards killing the last of them. Probably far enough.   
  
I sincerly apologize for the extrmly long time it has taken for me to post this, writing two stories at once takes longer than I had ever realized. And, while recovering from a near-fatal case of writers block......   
  
Really, the fanfictions nearly didn't survive. Fortunatly, they did. Anyway, I'm rambling. I must use this time to write more of the stories. "Blue Blood" has now ben posted, if you are interested. See you later.  
  
Please Review..... 


	8. Losers

Fett was nearly upon Hound's Tooth when *IG-2000* had sprung out of hyperspace. Not the real one, of that he was sure, he had that one in his tractor beam, pulling it to its death. Still, a fake one was bad enough. The false *IG-2000* had dropped out right onto the tractor beam, forcing it to lock on to its new target. Because this second ship completely eclipsed the first, there was absolutely no way for Fett to re-establish the original lock without moving around the decoy vessel. And that would take time. Time that he didn't have right now.   
  
The imposter ship slammed into the *Hound's Tooth* with a minimal impact, shattering into fragments of plasteel and metal bolts, the real *IG-2000* maneuvering away with the last burst of thruster fire it could manage.   
  
Small matter.  
  
IG-88 couldn't possibly think that it could actually escape from him that way, did it? It would simply be a matter of swinging around, bringing his blasters to bear and firing. Which was precisely what he intended to do.   
  
Taking *Slave I* in a long curve, careful to avoid running into the path of the droid's guns, Boba Fett brought his ship round to face the two other ships he had just crippled.  
  
That was when disaster struck.  
  
Dropping out of hyperspace behind him was a huge, droid-controlled cargo barge. It was almost the size of a Star Destroyer, and it was bearing down on him at a tremendous speed. Fett was suddenly given over from conscious thought to natural instinct as he brought his shields up to full and tried to maneuver out of its way. Unfortunately, it was just too big, and going too fast, to be avoided. *Slave I* shuddered violently as the two collided, collapsing *Slave I*'s shields and sending it into a mad spiral towards the dark red planet that was Geonosis.  
  
Fett's gloved hands flew over the control panels, trying to level of *Slave I*, move out of the barge's way and bring his weapons to bear. He had barely enough time to engage his engines before the barge rammed his ship again. This time, with no shields to protect it, *Slave I* started to fall apart. The main engines detonated inside the armor shell, the heating coils overloaded and dumped boiling coolant fluid into the weapons arrays, explosions racked the entire rear section and Fett's ION array shot through the hull and out the forward section, barely missing the cockpit and leaving a gaping hole behind.  
  
The barge smashed into the now helpless ship one more time, then turned and jumped back into hyperspace. The third hit crumpled one of the side wings, which spun around behind the *Slave I* and crushed the main sensor and communications dish. Crippled, spewing fire and lightning like some primeval god, the *Slave I* spun helplessly towards the atmosphere of Geonosis. Once inside the planet's gravity well, without engines, *Slave I* would fall like a wounded bird until connecting with the planet itself. That would be the one crash Boba Fett would not walk away from.  
  
"Computer, mute alarms. Transfer indicator lights to helmet array."  
  
The blaring alarms cut out, and the lights on the control board faded. Fett examined the long list of colored lights that had appeared by his left eye. Fett knew what each of them meant by heart. They were listed in order of importance, starting at the top with life support and working its way down.   
  
Things did not look good.   
  
Life support was gone; Fett had about ten minutes of air left, plus his in-helmet supply. That didn't really concern him, he would be in Geonosis' atmosphere before then. What did slightly worry him was that almost everything else was down as well. The only lights that were still on were the systems that were housed in the very tail of *Slave I*, namely the tractor beam array, twin blaster cannons and the concussion missile launcher. Upon further inspection, Fett discovered that the missile launcher arms were jammed: even though the missiles could be fired, they would simply hit the armor casing and detonate, destroying *Slave I*.   
  
It was at times like this that having hidden weapons were not so profitable.   
  
Fett's mind ran through and coldly discarded possibilities like a data-processing module on a droid. It took him a total of three seconds to decide on attempting to lock one of the other bounty hunter's ships in a tractor beam and another one to wait for his ship to spin back around into position. With lightning fast reflexes, honed by a lifetime of use, Boba Fett manually targeted the *Hound's Tooth* and activated the tractor beam just as it shot by on the viewscreen. *Slave I* shuddered as the beam found purchase on Bossk's ship, then lurched violently as the force of the sudden stop wrenched the beam emitter out of the already weak hull plating. Boba Fett watched in dismay as the tractor beam broke free of its holding and shot towards *Hound's Tooth*. It smashed into the ungainly vessel and detonated, breaking off the rear section of the Trandoshan's craft and sending it spinning out into space.   
  
Fett had already turned his attention back to his situation. *Slave I* was now inescapably caught in Geonosis' gravity well and for once, Boba Fett couldn't think of anything to do.  
  
Aurra barely saw it coming. She certainly didn't expect it. She had heard, even seen one on occasion, of the Corellian Jedi's amazing ability to absorb and redirect energy, but had never been aware that any other Force-sensitive could duplicate the effect. She suddenly became painfully aware of the fact that they could when it hit her. A wave of Force more powerful than most she had ever encountered. It picked her up, smashed her into the control panel, then flung her back into the holding bay. In the same burst, Ch'tek lunged up, activated his lightsabers and threw himself onto her. Still, the Force did not fail her, and she had enough of a warning to bring up her legs and plant them square in his chest. Using his momentum against him, Aurra flipped Ch'tek over her, while herself executing a twisted back flip. Drawing her sabers, she lunged at him just as he recovered. He swatted aside her saber and brought his own on top of hers, slicing her lightsaber into two tidy, sparking pieces. Then, he parried her left saber with his own, spinning around to jab her in the stomach with his right. Aurra Sing was, however, no longer there, having flipped over him and landed in a crouch, scything around to try and cut him down at the ankles. Ch'tek jumped, span around and leapt backwards into the cargo bay. The two paused for a minute, caught their breath and gathered their wits. Then Ch'tek struck. Not physically, his lightsabers stayed sticking out at the sides like extensions of his outstretched arms, but mentally. The Force wave hit Aurra, picked her up and flung her against the far wall. She slumped down, but still struck back. Her retaliatory blow was more like a mind probe. It tickled at the alien Jedi's conciseness Ch'tek brushed it aside, but it came back. He brushed it again, but Aurra persevered, this time with two tendrils of Force, then three, then four. Soon, Ch'tek was nearly lost in a wash of probes. Slowly, so as not to distract him, Aurra moved towards him, lightsabers held high.   
  
Then it was all over. Two broken sabers hit the floor, followed by a body, which landed with a dull thud. 


End file.
